


Cards on the Table

by MizJoely



Series: Mytheamore [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, mythea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft always wins...doesn't he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cards on the Table

**Author's Note:**

> fangirlhani asked: Mythea
> 
> The prompt was card and this is mildly NSFW.

“Gin.”

Mycroft glared down at the offending cards his PA had just laid on the table. “Impossible,” he muttered.

‘Anthea’ (she’d taken to using the false name she’d given John Watson upon their first meeting) gave him a smug grin. “I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” she said cheekily. “You know what to do, lover boy.” She leaned back in her chair, folded one arm across her chest and twirled the index finger of her other hand in the air, all while wearing an air of amused expectation.

Mycroft Holmes, the power behind the British government, maker and breaker of public policy, starter and ender of wars, master chess player and, in his own modest opinion, smartest of the Holmes brothers, tried to stare her down. She was fifteen years his junior; she was also his employee (technically). He’d trained her, for God’s sake.

Her amused smile never left her lips, just as her steady gaze never turned away from his.

As always when it came to their personal endeavors, Mycroft caved first.

“Fine,” he groused, standing up to remove his last piece of clothing. “Next time you want to play strip anything, however, I get to choose the game.”

She tilted her head to one side, clearly pretending to consider his request (demand, desperate plea). “Deal,” she finally replied, licking her lips as she stood up and moved to stand in front of him. The kiss they shared – not to mention the alacrity with which she removed her own clothing now that she’d proven her skills at yet another card game – went a long, a _very_ long way, to appeasing his wounded pride.


End file.
